


allergic reaction

by someoneplsloverobbierotten



Category: LazyTown
Genre: (well half-fae anyway), Fae Robbie Rotten, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Little bit of angst, M/M, Robbie does a lot of thinking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-24
Updated: 2017-05-24
Packaged: 2018-11-04 14:23:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,115
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10992747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someoneplsloverobbierotten/pseuds/someoneplsloverobbierotten
Summary: Sportacus is making Robbie's lifemiserable. Not only is he making the children healthy and active and loud, he's also making Robbie feel ill. It's horrible.The only possible explanation for it, of course, is that Robbie is allergic to him. But what's he going to do about it? It's not like there's an Elf antihistamine or anything.





	allergic reaction

**Author's Note:**

> based on this tumblr post - https://someoneplsloverobbierotten.tumblr.com/post/158665573111/robbie-every-time-i-am-around-sportaflop-my
> 
> (i apologise in advance for what i suspect to be some pretty appalling tense. i just couldn't get it anywhere close to correct in this, sorry!"

Since Sportacus had come to LazyTown, everything had gotten so much worse.

Robbie’s life was now horrendous. Thanks to Mr. Flippity-Floppity, the kids were happy being healthy; eating sportscandy and constantly running around and playing, being loud and noisy and – ugh – _exercising_ , keeping him awake, and then waking him up with their singing and dancing when he _did_ manage to get some sleep.

Not only that, but Sportacus himself was making Robbie ill. Actually, physically _ill_.

Anytime Robbie saw him he would start to feel hot and feverish and sometimes dizzy. He started getting these weird stomach aches too – they were almost like cramps but… sweeter? Not outright pain just more like if someone shocked him with a very small level of electricity. They were odd and unsettling and Robbie didn’t like them one bit.

Being near him made him sweat more too – more than his general anxiety at being near to someone else did anyway – and he stammered if he had to talk to him – again, more than if he was just generally speaking to people. And, most days after seeing the blue buffoon around he would go home with a headache building.

He tried to avoid the stupid Elf but everywhere Robbie went there he was, smiling and flexing and jumping around, teaching the brats how to be even healthier. It was awful. Sometimes Robbie swore that the hero was actively seeking him out, coming over to talk to him if he spotted the villain lurking nearby, or running into him on one of his runs around LazyTown as Robbie was coming back from the shops. He was everywhere, and Robbie was finding it harder and harder to avoid him.

Plus, Robbie now had to work twice as hard plotting to get him out of town forever, not just for the sake of the town’s laziness, but for his own health! The problem with this though was that the more times he tried to enact some sort of scheme to drive the blue dork away, the more times he had to see him, which just made everything harder!

He couldn’t figure out what was _wrong_ with him. Ugh.

All his thinking about Sportacus made is brain hurt. He’d have to take a nap. Looking around, he couldn’t see anyone nearby, none of the kids seemed to be out to play at the moment. That was unusual on a nice, sunny day like this, but not unwelcome.

He settled himself down on one of the benches inside the main court and forced all thoughts of the stupid blue kangaroo out of his head. Shuffling on the bench to get comfy, he closed his eyes.

Within a few minutes – during which Sportacus wormed himself back into the villain’s mind and Robbie had to concentrate to force him _back out_ again – he fell asleep.

 

* * *

 

 

He was awoken by a football whizzing over the bench at high speed and slamming into the wall centimetres from his head. He screeched, sitting up instinctively. The ball bounced off the wall and hit him in the back of the head and he bit back a curse, hand shooting up to his sore head.

At least it didn’t hurt because of you-know-who, he supposed, though he wasn’t at all happy it was hurting because of _this_.

Pinkie came running over and stopped the ball with her foot. He noticed she was wearing actual football boots today – pink of course.

“ _Robbie!_ ” she gasped, picking up the ball before it could do anymore damage. “I’m so sorry!”

“Good,” he grunted, rubbing the sore spot on his head. She _should_ be. “Don’t let it happen again. I was napping.” Then the fact that Pinkie is actually _here_ catches up with him and he looks around for the others. Sure enough, there they are over in the court, presumably waiting for Pinkie to come back with the ball. “What are you doing out here?” he asks, “I’m sure you weren’t out here before.”

“Yes, we were,” Stephanie said, confused. “Oh, you must’ve fallen asleep when we went inside for lunch.”

Ugh, just Robbie’s luck. “Figures,” he said, rolling his eyes.

Pinkie gave him a suspicious look. “You don’t _usually_ come outside before lunch, Robbie. Are you okay?”

“I can come up here whenever I _want_ ,” he huffed. The cheek of this kid, honestly.

Stephanie rolled her eyes at him. “I didn’t say you _couldn’t,_ just that you… don’t.” She was quiet for a few seconds. “Are you alright Robbie?”

“If you _must_ know,” he said, crossing his arms, “I came up here to think.”

“Oh. Did it help?”

“No,” he admitted, sulkily.

Stephanie looked at him for a moment. “Do… do you want to talk about it?” she asked hesitantly.

Robbie stiffened. “ _No_ ,” he snapped automatically, “you’re just a kid, what do _you_ know.”

“I know a lot of things,” Pinkie shouted, stomping her foot, “and a lot of it is stuff that adults are usually too _dumb_ to figure out.”

Her eyes widened upon realising what she’d said, but she didn’t apologise or back down. Instead she squared her shoulders and puffed her chest out a little, holding her ground.

 _‘Good girlie,’_ Robbie thought, then snapped himself out of it and glared at her, the insolent little thing. How dare she. Then again, another viewpoint could be useful… and people often said that kids were surprisingly perceptive and _did_ pick up on a lot of stuff that adults missed.

“Alright kid,” he said eventually, “I think the stupid Sport’s Elf is making me _ill_.”

Stephanie nearly dropped the ball. “ _What?_ ”

“I don’t think he’s doing it on _purpose!_ ” Robbie told her, “actually, I don’t think he knows he’s doing it at _all_.”

“Wait, wait.” Stephanie secured the football under one arm so she rub her forehead like she was fighting off a headache. “Hold on a second, what do you mean by ‘ill’?”

Robbie immediately launched into listing his symptoms, counting them off on his fingers. “Well, my stomach feels weird whenever he’s nearby, like cramps and stuff; I get hot and sometimes dizzy if I see him or even if I think about him; I- I can’t speak to him too well sometimes, he’s really messing up my speech because I keep stammering and it’s so awful, honestly; and I get headaches if I see him or think about him too much too.”

Stephanie’s eyes widened with each one, hand coming up to cover her mouth by number two. By the time he’d finished her eyes were wide as saucers and her cheeks were bright red, and it looked like she was trying to choke back some sort of coughing fit too.

“What’s up with you?” He demanded. “ _I’m_ the one who’s ill here, not– oh _no!_ Don’t tell me he’s making you sick too!”

How could he be so stupid? Why did he not stop to think that other people might be being affected by this too? It could be an epidemic! Gosh darn that stupid Elf for clouding his genius mind like this!

“No, no–” Stephanie croaked, struggling to contain her coughs, “I’m fine, I’m not ill I’m just… very surprised at this illness of yours.”

Oh.

“Well it is, very awful and suspicious.”

“I’ll say,” said the recovering Stephanie. “Especially since it seems very familiar.”

“It does?” Robbie asked, surprised. Maybe this little talk would pay off after all.

“Mhmm,” Stephanie hummed, nodding. “I mean, Robbie, are you sure you haven’t ever seen anything like this before, or heard about it?”

Robbie cast his mind back. Nothing had ever really made him feel like this before, not this severely at least. In fact, the only time he’d ever felt anything even similar to this was when he turned twelve and his idiot cousin had snuck him a sip of wine and…

 _“Oh.”_ The word came out in a rush of breath as the air in his lungs left him, forced out by his sudden realisation.

“Do you see?” Stephanie asked gently, a little smile starting to pull at the corners of her lips.

Of course he did. Suddenly, it all made sense. Pinkie was right, talking about it really did help; when said aloud, everything he’d been feeling fell into place, like he’d been trying to make a jigsaw without looking at what was on the box.

“I’m allergic to him,” he gasped, eyes wide.

“Wait, what?” Stephanie said, the smile dropping from her face. “No, I–”

“I’m _allergic_ to Sportadork!” Robbie shouted. “It all makes such perfect sense!”

“Robbie no, that’s not what I–”

He ignored her, jumping up from the bench and practically bouncing on the spot for a moment. “Excellent,” he crowed, “excellent! I figured it out!” He reached out to briefly pat Stephanie on the head, “nice work Pinkie.”

Taken aback by the praise Stephanie stumbled in her attempts to get Robbie to listen to her. “I– wow Robbie, thanks,” she stuttered, “but that’s really not–”

Dusting his palms Robbie simply walked past her, her protests fading into nothing as he practically skipped back to his lair, grinning.

 

* * *

 

 

When Robbie got back to his lair he treated himself to a nice big mug of hot cocoa and a slice of triple chocolate cake to celebrate figuring everything out.

He couldn’t believe he hadn’t realised it earlier, to be honest. Once he thought about it, it made perfect sense. Elves and Fae weren’t really known to get along; not just because of the large differences in lifestyle, but also because their magics didn’t really like to be in close proximity with one another. Granted, Robbie was only half Fae (maybe slightly more, he wasn’t not entirely sure,) and Sportaspoon barely gave off a whiff of magic himself, but apparently they had enough between them to cause problems.

What to do about it, though? It’s an _allergy_. As far as he knew, there was no cure for them aside from staying away from the allergen, or trying to remove it from the vicinity completely – both of which had been Robbie’s goal from day one, but he has already discovered that trying to avoid Sportabumble and trying to run him out of town conflicted _horribly_ with each other.

Still, it seemed that those were the only options available to him; it wasn’t like there was an Elf antihistamine or anything. He guessed he’d just have to keep their interactions as minimal as he could during schemes until he could get Sportacus out of town.

 _‘Ugh,’_ he thought, grimacing as he takes a sip of his hot chocolate. _‘It’s going to be so much **work**.’_

 

* * *

 

 

Not much changed after the allergy revelation. Robbie still had trouble sleeping, he ate his cake and continues to be generally unhealthy, and he still couldn’t abide all the noise that the children made. He was still villainous, or course; he still had his schemes and his disguises and his desire to make the children less active, but getting Sportacus out of the town had taken priority over just inspiring general laziness. Plus, with the amount of effort he’d been putting into his schemes lately, he hated to say it, but it’d be pretty hypocritical to try and get the kids to be lazier when this was the most active that Robbie himself had been in years.

The only real change was that Robbie didn’t really leave his lair. Since Robbie had to actually _see_ Sportacus to be able to carry out half of his plots, staying down there for all the time he wasn’t carrying one out was the only way to effectively minimise contact with him. He spent as much time as physically possible down in the bunker, plotting and scheming and working on his plans until they were perfect. He refused to leave until they were finished and ready to act on – barring an absolute emergency like running out of coffee or something, and even then he made himself wait until the dead of night to go get some. (Yes, he had to technically break in due to the late hour, but he always left the money on the counter.)

It was difficult and annoying and was definitely giving him some sort of cabin fever, but it was the only way he could stay away from Sportacus completely.

It was going relatively well – alright, not _well_ ; he’d had six failed plots in the past two weeks – but he’d barely seen Sportaloon in that time and he was feeling quite a bit better. The stomach-aches tended to pop up right when he was thinking hardest about getting Elf-boy out of LazyTown, which was pretty annoying, but the only headaches he got were due to the noise from above or caffeine intake, he didn’t get dizzy anymore, and aside from the occasional hot flush has stayed at a relatively normal temperature.

If fact, it was going well enough that he felt like chancing a trip above-ground. He was low on both coffee and sugar, and could do with some more flour. Plus, he was craving brownies, and a couple of pans of those sounded like a perfect reward for a job well done; he’d just finished the plans for his latest plot – only a couple of things to tinker with, machinery wise, that night and everything would be ready to act on for the next day. He was on a bit of a high, so after a quick check on his periscope he headed up the pipe to go to the shops.

The kids were off being loud in the main court, so as long as he stayed well away from there he should be fine. Sportacus wasn’t likely to be anywhere else aside from with them, so he was pretty confident he could sneak around to the shops without incident.

He was a fool. He was an overconfident _fool_.

Sportacus rounded the corner – coming from the direction of the shops, of _course_ – and absolutely _lit up_ when he spotted Robbie, immediately sprinting towards him.

Robbie had nowhere to run; he was right in the middle of the path. Stupid, _stupid!_ He’d thought that being so far away from the court meant he could take the path, instead of sneaking through the bushes. He should’ve hidden anyway – he couldn’t even jump off the path and into the bushes to hide because Sportacus had already seen him.

The hero practically skidded to a halt in front of him, radiating heat and health and _ugh_ – even his mere _presence_ was starting to make Robbie feel queasy again.

“Robbie!” He exclaimed, bouncing on his heels.

With the amount of pure energy coming off him right then, Robbie suspected that Sportacus would’ve hugged him if he’d been anyone else, but he was unbelievably glad he didn’t. Robbie might die if he did that to him, it could _actually_ kill him.

“I’ve barely seen you in weeks, aside from schemes,” Sportacus said, “are you okay?” He sounded genuinely concerned, and Robbie could just _tell_ that the Elf wanted to put a comforting hand on his arm or something. Instead though, the hero settled for toeing the ground nervously. “You’ve been trying to run me out a lot lately,” he said gently, “and I’m just– if it’s making you ill you can take a break, you know?”

For a second Robbie forgot about avoiding Sportacus because how _dare_ he? “Are you implying I can’t keep up with my own schemes!?” The villain demanded, straightening up and towering above Sportacus.

Sportacus immediately threw up his hands in a placating gesture. “No, no! I just don’t want you to overwork yourself that’s all, I’ve been getting worried–”

Oh _jeez_ , Robbie was so out of here. The weird feeling in his stomach was back full-force with the Elf’s fussing and he immediately walked right past Sportacus, blanking him. His face felt like it was on fire whilst his brain felt like it was freezing one cell at a time. He sped to the shops on autopilot, staring ahead at nothing.

After almost a minuet he saw blue at the side of his vision. It was Sportacus, jogging backwards so he could try and get in front and still talk.  Robbie walked quicker but Sportacus kept the pace easily, and Robbie _refused_ to run, he would not run he would not–

“Are you okay Robbie? You don’t look so good–”

Robbie snapped, that honest concern just too much for him to take and he stops dead. “I’m _not_ okay; of _course_ I don’t look good!”

Sportacus stuttered to a halt in front of him, nearly tripping up. Usually the sight of the Elf being less than perfect would amuse him to no end, but this time it just made a fresh wave of whatever the heck is going on with him come over the villain and increased his anger even more.

“I’m _never_ okay anymore you stupid sport’s kangaroo!” He shouted, throwing his hands in the air. “You’re ruining me!”

“I’m– I’m what?” Sportacus stuttered, taking a confused step back.

 _“Ruining me!”_ Robbie screamed, “destroying me! It’s all your fault!”

Sportacus was bewildered. “I– I don’t understand–”

“You! You and your dumb–” Robbie couldn’t finish, he was so angry he couldn’t even find the _words_ , just gestured jerkily to all of Sportacus, slowly feeling his face get hotter and hotter. “You!” he finished dumbly.

“M– me?” Sportacus asked, placing his hand over his heart. “What did I do?”

“You’re making me feel weird,” Robbie snapped, crossing his arms in an attempt to hide his embarrassment.

“What?”

“You heard!” Robbie yelled. “I can’t– I can’t feel _right_ around you! You come here with your stupid _sports_ and your _sportscandy_ and your **_muscles_** and you make feel _horrible!”_ Robbie stomped his foot.

Sportacus’s jaw dropped. “I– I what? _How?”_

_“Because I’m allergic to you!”_

Sportacus jumped at the villain’s sudden scream and Robbie froze. Oh no. Oh no, no, _no_. He’d said too much.

The two of them stared at each other for a moment, too shocked by what had just happened, before Robbie turned and ran. He knew that Sportacus would catch up with him eventually, but hopefully the surprise of seeing Robbie actually _run_ would buy him a few extra seconds at least.

It did, but not enough of them. Sportacus was beside him again within a couple of minutes; his stamina eventually overriding the advantage that shock and ridiculously long legs had afforded him.

Deciding that he’d rather do this outside rather than in his own home, he gave up and stopped, grinding to a halt. Clearly not expecting Robbie to stop, Sportacus almost skidded right on past him. The hero managed to save himself from going too far, unfortunately, and turned to face him.

“Robbie!” Sportacus cried, “what on earth is going on? What did you mean before when you said you’re allergic to me?”

“It means I’m allergic to you, idiot! _Exactly_ what I said,” Robbie scoffed.

Sportacus blinked in confusion. “You–  you can’t be allergic to a _person,”_ the hero sputtered.

“Yes you can!” Robbie spat indignantly, crossing his arms again.

“No you _can’t_ Robbie!” Sportacus insisted, crossing his arms

“You can,” Robbie argued, “you can if you’re–” Robbie suddenly clamped his jaw shut with such force that Sportacus heard his teeth click together, cutting himself off before he could finish his sentence.

The hero gave him a suspicious look. “…If you’re what?” he asked slowly.

“If– If–” Robbie squeaked, panicking under Sportacus’s narrowed gaze.

“If you’re _what_ , Robbie?” Sportacus asked again.

Robbie couldn’t look him in the eye, staring somewhere past his shoulder at the trees behind him. “If you’re– if you’re not… human,” he finished quietly, shuffling his feet nervously.

Sportacus’s eyes widened and he flinched like he wanted to step backwards, away from Robbie. “You know,” he said flatly.

“Well, yeah,” Robbie admitted, rubbing his arm sheepishly.

“Oh.”

They stood awkwardly for a moment, silent under the trees that edged the path to Robbie’s bunker. Sportacus was clearly thinking, his gaze a little unfocused, and Robbie was thinking about making another run for it when the Elf let out a weighty sigh and rubbed the back of his head.

“Well, you still can’t be allergic to me, Robbie,” Sportacus said. “I know I’m an Elf, but that shouldn’t make you _ill_.”

“But Fae magic and Elf magic don’t–” Robbie’s eyes widened and he shoved a hand over his mouth. Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, _no_. For goodness sake! What _was_ it about Sportacus that made Robbie unable to keep his stupid mouth shut around him?

“You– you’re Fae?” Sportacus asked, taken aback.

Robbie froze again, caught out. “…No,” he said.

“Yes you are,” Sportacus said, the realisation dawning on him. So many things must be finally making sense to him right now; his love of sugar, some of the practical effects of disguises and schemes that just didn’t seem physically possible... Robbie could physically see the pieces falling into place in Sportacus’s mind.

“Aren’t you?” Sportacus asked softly. The clear non-judgement in his tone made Robbie feel sick again.

“I might be,” Robbie grumbled.

Sportacus raised an eyebrow and Robbie deflated.

“Alright, I am,” the villain admitted, “kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“I’m half Fae,” Robbie clarified, shuffling his feet. He looked around nervously like he expected someone was about to suddenly appear. “Don’t go telling those snot-nosed little brats about this,” he growled.

“I won’t, I won’t,” Sportacus hurriedly assured him, “I promise.”

“Good.”

There, conversation over. Sportacus knew everything now and even though Robbie’s secret was safe with him – if Sportacus said he wouldn’t tell, he wouldn’t; the dumb Elf was incapable of lying like that – he was still allergic to him. He expected Sportacus to go away, back to his ship or even out of the town altogether. Instead, Sportacus stayed, and they just stared at the other.

When a few minutes had gone by and Sportacus hadn’t made a move to leave, Robbie narrowed his eyes at him warily and then made shooing motions with his hands. “Well, go on,” he said.

Sportacus looked confused.

“Go _on_ ,” Robbie said exasperatedly, “off you go away from here. You can’t stay here anymore, not if I’m allergic to you.”

Sportacus sighed again and rolled his eyes. “Robbie, you’re not allergic to me.”

“Wh–” Robbie spluttered. _Incredible_. “Yes I _am!”_ he insisted, “I just _explained_ this to you – our magic is clashing and making me feel weird, ergo; I’m allergic to you.”

Sportacus rubbed his forehead. “Robbie that’s not how it works–”

“Yes it is!” the villain cried.

Sportacus shook his head. “No – it’s not. You’re only half-Fae and I barely have a _drop_ of magic in me,” he explained, “I never have. That’s not enough to effect either of us with anything. Even if you were fully Fae, I don’t think there would be an issue; I’ve got no magic to react _with_.”

That… made unfortunate sense.

“Plus,” Sportacus continued, “if our magic’s _were_ allergic to each other then I should be feeling ill around you, too, right? But I’m not.”

_Ugh!_

“Well– well what do you suggest then, Sporta _smart_ ,” Robbie snarled. If he wasn’t allergic to the Elf then _was_ wrong with him? Why was he feeling like this?

Sportacus shrugged. “I don’t know – but it’s not an allergy.” Robbie glared at him and he hastily moved on. “What exactly do I, uh, _do_ to you?” he asked, “how do you feel?”

Robbie covered his face with his hands and let out a silent scream. He couldn’t _believe_ this.

“You… you make me feel sick.” He ground out eventually, eyes lowering to the ground the moment he removed his hands from his rapidly heating face. “I get queasy and my stomach feels funny and my head hurts th– thinking about you, I get hot and sometimes dizzy when you’re around and– and I can’t speak right to you sometimes, and my heartbeat speeds up to frankly _alarming_ levels, and I just feel generally not right and awful whenever you’re around or I think about you – which I _have_ to do a lot, of course, for schemes and plotting and things.”

He didn’t look up at Sportacus until he’d finished speaking. He wasn’t really sure what he expected to see when he did so, but whatever it was, he highly doubted that this was it.

There was no horror or disgust on Sportacus’s face, or even confusion, or laughter. Sportacus was just stood there, a slightly shocked look on his flushing face.

Eventually, Sportacus shook himself and cleared his throat. “Well,” he said, far too calmly for Robbie’s liking. “I was wrong about one thing.”

Wait, what?

“It’s not just you,” the hero told him.

 _“What?”_ Robbie demanded.

“And I know what it is.” Sportacus was smiling? His head was tilted down a bit, and it was small, but Robbie was _sure_ he was smiling.

The burning in his face increased and flooded down to his stomach. Was Sportacus _playing_ with him? Robbie didn’t appreciate that at all, and he opened his mouth to tell him so–

“You like me.”

Whatever Robbie was going to say died on the tip of his tongue there and then, the only sound coming out of his mouth a faint wheeze.

“…What?” he croaked, mouth suddenly very dry.

“You like me,” Sportacus beamed, “you have a crush on me.”

Robbie’s brain was fried. He couldn’t do this. It was ridiculous, insane, ludicrous! “I– I’m a _villain!”_ He told the Elf. “A villain doesn’t fall for the hero, that’s– that’s…”

“Sweet?” Sportacus finished for him.

Robbie made a noise. It sounded indignant but he didn’t actually know what it _was_ other than some sort of squeak. Either way, Sportacus chuckled at it and Robbie felt his face grow even hotter. He genuinely feared it might melt off or something at this point.

“ _I_ think its sweet,” Sportacus offered.

Robbie let out a strangled yell. “I- I don’t _like_ you,” he sputtered, “I _hate_ you!”

“You like my muscles,” Sportacus said, smirking.

“Shut up!” Robbie shrieked.

Sportacus fell silent, but he was grinning. The sight drove Robbie mad, that stupid dumb smile lighting up the Elf’s face and–

Oh no. Oh _no._

“Robbie?”

He could hear Sportacus calling his name, but Robbie didn’t respond, simply staring blankly ahead as everything hit him.

“Robbie are you okay? I’m sorry about the teasing, I–”

Robbie turned away from Sportacus and _ran_ , and he didn’t stop until he was through the hatch to his bunker.

 

* * *

 

 

Robbie spent over an hour just laid in his chair, unable to move from the upside-down position that the ride down the chute had dumped him in, staring at the ceiling of his lair. He thought about nothing, mind a whirlwind of static and snow as he gazed at the metal rafters above.

Eventually he managed to make his legs move enough that he could tip himself over and wobble over to his kitchen area, but it was a slow process. He made himself a large mug of hot chocolate with shaking hands before he collapsed back in his chair again and allowed himself to think about what happened.

He wasn’t allergic to Sportacus. He liked him.

He _liked_ him.

Robbie groaned and dropped his face in his free hand, curling himself into his chair. He couldn’t believe it. He just couldn’t.

Could he?

Was it really that impossible to believe that he liked Sportacus? He had no problem admitting that Sportacus was an attractive man. Lots of people would find him physically and aesthetically appealing. Sure, it might not be what Robbie thought he would go for personally, but then again, Robbie didn’t usually think a lot about these things in general, so who knew?

And, sure, they were completely different people, but Robbie had always heard the phrase ‘opposites attract’ thrown around. Plus, when that opposite was someone very attractive, sweet, kind, good with kids and animals, thoughtful, forgiving and happy, with a surprisingly good sense of humour… well. Who could blame him? That was pretty much the description of everyone’s dream person, right?

So actually, it was hardly surprising at all that Robbie apparently had some sort of crush on Sportacus. In fact, it would probably be a lot more surprising if he _didn’t_.

It would’ve been nice if he’d’ve _known_ about it, though. He’d made such a fool of himself. Honestly, he was never taking Pinkie’s advice ever again; all that ‘insightful children’ and ‘different perspective’ stuff was rubbish. Honestly, an _allergy_. Of course it wasn’t an allergy! Sportacus was right – he didn’t have anywhere near enough magic for Robbie to be allergic to whether he was half Fae or full, and Robbie should’ve known that.

He was an idiot. A stupid fool. Really, he should’ve thought of this before, it was so obvious.

Although Robbie _really_ didn’t think about these things, why would he have considered it? Especially since he and Sportacus were so different. He wouldn’t’ve considered liking someone in general, never mind someone who was pretty much everything Robbie disagreed with.

Still, that was the problem, it seemed.

Actually, no, it wasn’t. The _real_ problem was what to do about it.

 

* * *

 

 

Robbie waited until night fell to venture back above ground. It was way past 8:08 by the time he crawled up the pipe and out the hatch, heading for the park. He knew it was cowardly, going out when he knew Sportacus wouldn’t be around, but he needed to think and he hadn’t had proper fresh air in weeks, almost months. To be fair, now that he knew what was going on, the Elf might give him some space, but Robbie didn’t want to risk it. There was as about as much chance of him giving Robbie time to himself as there was of him trying to approach Robbie and talk it out, and whilst he couldn’t really blame Sportacus for that, it wasn’t what he wanted right now.

The park, of course, was quiet when he got there. All the children had long gone to bed, by now, as had the adults most likely. Aside from the hum of a couple of bugs and the low hoot of an owl, the place was silent. It was a nice place to think, to figure out what he was going to do about all… this.

The fact of the matter was, he couldn’t avoid Sportacus forever. He’d tried that, and it hadn’t worked. (Well, it kind of had, but he’d almost gone stir-crazy trapped inside all the time and whilst he was an advocate for unhealthy living, that was too far even for him.)

Sportacus showed no signs of leaving on his own, especially since Robbie wasn’t allergic to him, and Robbie’s plots to force him out weren’t going… brilliantly. Getting rid of Sportacus himself was still a main plan, of course, but unfortunately not completely reliable.

So if Sportacus was staying, then Robbie would either have to ignore everything and get over it, or… well that was really the only option. It wasn’t like he could just, you know, do anything about it. He couldn’t date the guy or something. They were far too _different_.

Sportacus lived on sportscandy and couldn’t ingest sugar without falling into a coma. Robbie couldn’t survive without sugar and would almost throw-up when confronted with sportscandy of any kind.

Sportacus woke up at dawn every day and went to bed at 8:08pm every night, sleeping – as far as Robbie knew – solidly and peacefully. Robbie had no schedule at all; he woke up and went to bed _whenever_ , going to sleep in the early hours of the morning and staying asleep until way into the afternoon if he could. He had nightmares and hardly ever slept peacefully. Sometimes he didn’t even sleep at all.

Sportacus was nice and kind and sweet and forgiving. Robbie was mean and selfish and grumpy and short-tempered

Sportacus was a good guy; the hero of the town. Robbie was a bad guy; the villain no-body liked.

Robbie having feelings for Sportacus? Stupid. Silly. Pointless.

A relationship between the two of them was impossible. It would never work.

_‘It’s not just you…’_

…Would it?

He wouldn’t’ve considered Sportacus liking him back a possibility, but since Sportacus had at least implied that he did the villain kind of had to. Would Sportacus liking him back really change anything though? They we’re still completely different people – and their entire relationship so far was based around the two of them trying to defeat each other.

And yet… Sportacus had seemed to think it could work. He wouldn’t’ve said anything otherwise, would he? Perhaps he just had to tell him, since everything was already coming out and he had nothing to lose. They weren’t really friends, if Robbie told him to get lost nothing would really change – all Robbie did was try to get rid of him anyway.

Robbie sighed, leaning down to pick at the grass at the feet of the bench. Did Sportacus think they had a chance? Did Sportacus even _want_ to give them a chance?

Did Robbie?

What would it even be like? They’d sit and eat different meals and then go off and do different things; Sportacus would go play with the kids and make them awful and noisy and happy and he’d do more inventing things – would he even scheme anymore? – and he’d complain and Sportacus would chuckle and roll his eyes and go to bed at completely different times and Robbie would wake up to that stupid, beautiful smiling face every day and…

Yes.

Yes, Robbie _did_ want to give them a chance.

He just had to figure out how to try.

 

* * *

 

 

LazyTown didn’t see its resident villain for the next couple of days. Robbie spent his time underground, just puttering around his lair and thinking. He didn’t know whether to wait for Sportacus to come to him – since he knew that the Elf would want to speak to him about all this at _some_ point – or to try and confront the Elf himself. The first option was pretty cowardly, admittedly, but Robbie just wasn’t brave enough for the second one.

He wanted to go find Sportacus, but he didn’t know what to say. He spent his days down in his lair, thinking about how to find him, when to find him, what to do and what to say. At night, he either went to the park or sat behind the billboard, looking at the sky and thinking some more.

Tonight he was leaning against the back of the billboard, looking up at the stars. He still didn’t know what to do. Well, he knew _what_ he had to do; talk to Sportacus, he just didn’t know _how_. Should he wait until he was out playing with the kids and try and get him somewhere private? No, the kids wouldn’t understand and try and get Sportacus to come back to play with him after a couple of minutes. Should he try and get him down to Robbie’s lair to talk? Whilst it _was_ more private down there it was also Robbie’s home. It was somewhere he could run to if he got overwhelmed, somewhere he could keep himself safe. He didn’t really want to bring the confrontation, so to speak, down there. He could of course, try and speak to Sportacus in his airship, but there was no way Robbie was going up there.

The only thing he could really think of was to get Sportacus to meet him after the kids had gone home for the evening, but before Sportacus disappeared off to his ship for the night to sleep. It’d be difficult to catch him at the right time, but perhaps Robbie could send him a letter…

…Or maybe he wouldn’t, as four days was apparently the maximum amount of time that Sportacus could bear to stay away for before he decided to take matters into his own hands. The Elf appeared silently over the edge of the billboards base and came to sit next to the villain without a word, leaning back against the billboard. He tilted his head back against the cold metal to look up at the stars, and Robbie saw out of the corner of his eye that his hat was missing, golden curls spread against the metal. The tips of his ears could be seen poking out through them if Robbie looked carefully enough.

They sat quietly for a few minutes, just enjoying the stars. Robbie found it quite nice; just to sit next to Sportacus like this, enjoying his presence. He wondered if Sportacus felt the same way.

After a little while, Sportacus turned his head towards Robbie. “I’m sorry I freaked you out,” he told the villain softly. “I didn’t mean to. I shouldn’t’ve teased you”

Robbie sighed and turned his head too. “I know you didn’t mean it,” he said. He couldn’t bring himself to snap or start an argument, not here. It was too nice. “I just… I didn’t _know,”_ he explained, “it was too much.”

“You really didn’t know?” Sportacus asked.

Robbie shook his head.

“At all?”

“No!” Robbie insisted, “I thought I was ill!”

“But you – you mean you’ve never felt anything like that before?” Sportacus asked, a curious tilt to his head. There was no judgement in his voice.

Robbie fiddled with the button on one of his cuffs. “Not as strongly,” he said. “I moved here when I was young, and there’s… no one really here to, y’know, _like_ , so I didn’t get the opportunity to. The closest think I ever felt was when my cousin gave me some red wine when I was younger and I found out I was allergic,” he broke off to snort and roll his eyes. “It was the same thing, to some extent. A little bit more itching, perhaps, but everything else added up.”

Sportacus nodded. “It _was_ a plausible theory, to be fair; our species _are_ known to react… unfavourably sometimes, magic-wise. An allergy was a reasonable conclusion to come to.”

“See!” Robbie exclaimed, and Sportacus chuckled.

They lapsed back into silence for a few minutes. Robbie didn’t mind.

“What would you have done if you _had_ known?” Sportacus asked. “If you’d come to…a different conclusion. Would you still have run?

Robbie blinked. “I– I don’t know,” he said. He still would’ve been terrified, he would’ve wanted nothing more than to flee. But... “I might not have,” he whispered.

Sportacus smiled softly, his gaze on the ground. “Good,” he said softly. “I wouldn’t’ve wanted you to.”

“Why?”

Sportacus rolled his eyes, fiddling with his vambraces as he shot Robbie a wry look. “You know why.”

“Why?” Robbie repeated, and Sportacus sighed.

“Because I _like_ you,” he told Robbie, “I have feelings for you; romantic ones.”

“But _why?”_ Robbie asked again, almost pleading with him. “I’m a _villain_ – why would you have those– those feelings for me?”

“Robbie,” Sportacus said sympathetically, “you _are_ a villain, but you’re not _evil_. You don’t hurt the children. You’re still a good person. The children like you.”

Robbie shook his head and scoffed. “No they don’t, I try and make them be _lazy_.”

“You do,” Sportacus agreed, “but they always end up having lots of fun with your schemes and games. They like you. They know that just because you’re the villain that doesn’t mean your bad, like I do.”

Robbie blushed – not that it could really be seen in the dark – and lowered his head. He heard Sportacus shuffled a bit closer and felt a nudge on his arm.

“I– _still_ , we’re different people, we– we’re the roles we are for a reason,” he stressed, “it would never work.”

“…Wouldn’t it?”

Robbie faltered. “N– no, it wouldn’t,” he said, “come _on_ Sportacus; you like running, and jumping, and playing sports, and getting up at 5am, and saving people, and eating Sportascandy – I hate running and jumping and sports of any kind, I sleep past midday and sometimes I’m still _awake_ at 5am, and all I eat is cake and sweets – I _hate_ sportscandy.”

Sportacus just sat quietly while Robbie ranted, until the villain ran out of steam.

“You’re also funny,” Sportacus said, when Robbie had finished, “and you make me laugh. I think you’re very handsome, and that you’re beautiful when you smile. You care about what you do and you work hard.” He reached out to lay his hand over one of Robbie’s. “It doesn’t matter that we like different things, or that we have different habits. It matters that we like each other.”

Robbie bit back his smile, but he did turn the hand underneath Sportacus’s around so he could hold it. He could see Sportacus’s answering smile reflected in the moonlight as he laced their fingers together. It was nice; warm.

“I– I don’t see why we couldn’t give it a chance?” Sportacus asked, a little waver in his voice.

“I suppose… we could,” Robbie told him. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to try, it’s just that he was so afraid of failing. He didn’t know if he could go back if this didn’t work.

Sportacus seemed to get that though, if the soft smile he gave Robbie was any indication. Perhaps he had the same fear.

“I’m glad,” the hero said. He scootched a little closer to Robbie and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. Robbie’s jaw dropped upon the contact and he let out a small gasp, causing Sportacus to jump and pull back.

“Sorry!” he apologised immediately, “I should have checked if–”

Robbie quickly surged forwards and kissed Sportacus on the lips. Sportacus jumped again, but immediately melted underneath him. It was only a small kiss, cute more than anything, and short, but when they pulled back they were both a little out of breath.

“Sorry,” Robbie panted, having a bit of difficulty comprehending what he’d just done.

“Don’t you _dare_ ,” Sportacus breathed, “don’t be sorry for that.”

“Um, alright – okay,” Robbie nodded automatically. “Well,” he said after a few seconds, “now we definitely know it’s not an allergy; I think _kissing_ you would’ve made me explode or something.”

Sportacus laughed, devolving into a fit of giggles so hard he almost snorted. When his laughter faded a grin remained and he looked at Robbie a little shyly. “So,” he said, “do you… want to give this a go? There’s no pressure if you do or you don’t.”

Robbie looked at the Elf and his stupid soft smile and squeezed his hand. “You know, I think I’d like that.”


End file.
